Some Blood-Lines are better than others
by Trickster True
Summary: A woman dies in battle and is reborn into the Harry Potter world. As usual. Only one small change: she's reborn into a family that is definitely the last one she would've chosen. And honestly? She's done, she doesn't care about the timeline or the prophecy. She's a Soldier first and she's prepared for war, a war that she's going to win. Who says that to be good you have to be pure?


**Okay, so this one is gonna be a little different from what I usually do. I'm into the Reborn into blah, blah thing, so here's one take that's been in my head. This is going to start off rather lighthearted, but it's not going to stay that way for long. The chapters are also rather small right now, they'll start getting longer later.**

 **This idea I have is to take characters that are hated a lot by a lot of fans and having an oc come back as that character. From Ginny to Petunia, from Dudley to Snape, hell, maybe even Umbridge. None that are really big characters at first in canon. But this isn't a 'make the characters good' or anything of the like. Some are going to act like canon even thought they're not, others are going to be like canon with some major changes, others are going to act completely different from canon. They're not the same oc, and I might make it all connected in some way. Like a strange book series that can make sense starting at any book and ending at any other one. So nothing will be labeled like "Book One" or whatever.**

 **I'm planning on doing more than just Ginny, remember.**

 **I don't own Harry Potter.**

* * *

There are worst families to be born in, I suppose. I could've been placed in with the Crabbe or Goyle family line; I remember reading a fan fiction about it once - didn't seem like much fun. Of course, that also means that are better blood-lines to be born into - like the Potter line or even the Black line. A better foothold in the politics and such that which could make my life just a little bit easier. Alas, life is not fair and enjoys watching me flail around, lost out of my wits. I really should know by now not to wish for anything from life.

Because I am three years old and the youngest Weasley.

Ginevra Molly Weasley at your service, born on the 11 of August, 1981. The first year of my newly realized life was spent with muffled hearing, badly blurred vision, and adapting to being practically paralyzed. Slightly over dramatic? Yes, but still true. The second year was spent trying to remember who I was before, how I became an infant, and wrapping my head around the fact I was in the Harry Potter world.

Not that much fun let me tell you, I gained more than a few headaches during that time.

This year, my third year of life, I am slowly relearning how to work my body again and learning as much as I can of the world I had been born into. And, as I was nothing but a baby meant that people were more willing to talk about important matters in front of me.

Of course I had to have the one man as a father who enjoys talking about rubber ducks and nothing of real importance.

Damn it all to hell.

* * *

Before I was placed with the Weaselys, and it is _placed_ not _reborn_ , I was forty-five years old. My name, at the moment, doesn't matter. I had a family of five; a mother in the medical field, a father in the military, and two younger sisters.

My parents had met out on the field when my father had gotten shot and the only medic close enough to treat him was my mother. Father always claimed that he had seen an angel when telling the story; mother would say that she had never been more repulsed by a man before father came around. Even then, it was mother who made the first move. They both left the field in order to have a family.

Both sides of my family had always worked in or close to the government. This meant that my sisters' and my life was already mapped out.

My sisters were twins three years younger than me and refused to leave the other's side for years. Until my father got sick of it and forced them into two different boot-camps for a year. Ah, that man was as strict as they come.

(I miss him. I miss all of them so much.)

They were never quite the same after that. One left to work in Law and the other became a police officer. I was the only one who went along my parents' path and joined the military.

* * *

Now I had six older brothers, an oblivious father, and a run-ragged mother. It was obvious that someone needed to be the adult in this household, and little Percy was not fitting into that role like he so desired.

As that thought hit me I threw my head back as much as I could and groaned.

Ignoring the clucking of Arthur and Molly, I knew that any chance of a peaceful life before the start of the books was gone.

I just want to sleep and not worry about that stuff until later.


End file.
